Of Annas, Outrealms, and Murderous Evil Dragons
by A Writing Squirrel
Summary: Turns out Outrealm Gates do exist in our universe. They're wormholes, run by an extradimensional Anna. What's more, sign the wrong contract with the wrong pretty redhead, and you'll bind yourself into indentured servitude to one of her sisters. That was exactly what I accidentally did, and, owing to the fact that I thought it a joke, I never even saw what the terms were. Wonderful.


**I am duped**

* * *

I lift my cup.

I take a sip.

I start gagging.

Holy _shit_ that is strong. But then, I don't know what else I expected, ordering a double ristretto like the edgy idiot I am.

From the counter, Bill chuckles as he cleans the espresso machine. "Chug it down, boy." He calls. "It might not taste the best, but the kick'll do you good."

I give the old man a dubious grunt. "What do you even put in this thing? The shattered, decaying hopes and dreams of students like me?"

"Oh, quit your angst and drink the damned coffee." He laughs. "If you pour that out I'm going to kick your ass."

"Please don't. You'll trip and break your neck." I shoot back. Then I shrug, tilting my head back and bringing the cup up to my lips again.

As the dark, bitter sludge slides down my throat, I _swear _I can feel the tissue lining my esophagus atrophy and peel off. Cue more gagging.

Slamming the cup down, I thump my chest with a fist. I… don't feel much better.

So what do I do? I take another sip with a grimace. Can't let that money I spent go to waste.

_Really, it's wasted already, but eh, moot point._

I spend the next few minutes choking down my drink, progressively growing more and more certain that it's a biohazard, and that I ought to call poison control for myself before I keel over and die.

Surprisingly though, Bill was right, and I find myself so preoccupied with being disgusted at the taste and texture of this infernal liquid that I somehow forget what I should be doing: wallowing in my misery. The rush of caffeine making its way through my system doesn't hurt either.

Unfortunately, I run out of coffee soon enough, and I'm left staring at pitch-black dregs clinging to the cup's interior. I briefly consider buying another shot, but that idea's ditched as I reach into my pocket and feel only a depressing emptiness. Bill's vanished into the back of the café, too, and I'd have lacked the energy to call him out even if I _had_ the money.

I sit there for another few minutes, asking myself _where the _hell _in the last two months did I go so wrong_? I already know the answer, of course. I'd known the first year of university was going to be tough. I'd known that I wouldn't be able to slack off like I could in high school and get away with it. I'd told myself that I could get my shit together and push through 6 courses a semester while working a job, if I put my mind to it.

And honestly, I probably could've.

Except I didn't. Being the lazy, procrastinating fool I am, I'd slept in, skipped classes, winged exams, and completely, _utterly_ screwed myself over. It's the end of the year now. Too late for me to change anything, so I was for certain going to graduate a year late at least. If I didn't just straight up get kicked out.

Getting laid off my job was the icing on the cake - I won't be able to pay my rent, either. I'd need to either find another source of income within the next week, or ask my parents for money. With the former option, I think I'd have better odds robbing a bank than trying to get a job that paid enough, and with the latter, well…

They were struggling with their mortgage as is. I took student loans to pay my tuition so I wouldn't make it worse for them, and I wasn't about to change my stance on that now. I'd sooner sleep on the streets.

_At this point, that's hardly even an exaggeration anymore._

Yeah, things sucked, and I had nobody to blame but myself.

"You _dumbass_." I whisper to past me - _and_ present me, because instead of trying to _fix_ my problems, I'm currently sitting in a café sulking about them. And now I'm sulking about how I'm sitting in a café sulking.

That's starting to seem like a bad habit of mine, isn't it?

"Ouch, how scathing. I'm hurt." Someone says.

_Good_, is my brain's automatic first response. Then it catches up to the fact that said _someone_ is sitting directly across the table from me, and I nearly leap out of my seat.

She raises an eyebrow at me.

I'd been sitting here for, what, a good twenty minutes now? Certainly I haven't noticed anyone enter the shop, which had been empty besides Bill and I. Did I space out? I don't usually have the tendency to do that.

"Well, hi?" I try to recover, as I get a better look at the whoever this apparent ninja is.

Red hair, so that discounts anyone I know - because there's only one redhead in my classes and that's a guy. This girl is wearing a red blouse with sleeves that stop short of her elbows over a yellow shirt, so she's got a bit of a color theme going on. She's attractive, for sure, but more than that, she's… _awfully _familiar looking, though I can't quite place why.

Oh, and I just called her a dumbass, didn't I? Do I apologize? I probably should, but I don't much feel like it. "I didn't mean you, by the way. Didn't notice you. You're, uh, not a dumbass. As far as I know, anyways."

"I'm flattered." She giggles. "And _hi_ yourself. You didn't look like you were having the best day, so I thought I'd talk to you."

_That makes no sense whatsoever. Or it kind of does. Does it?_

And _slightly_ suspicious. You don't go around talking to strangers to be _nice_, so chances were she wanted something from me. Though, to be fair, that _could_ just be my foul mood. "I'll get over it, thank you for your… concern?" I decide to up and ask the potentially embarrassing question. "Also, have we met? I feel like I've seen you before."

I'm absolutely certain now that I have, _somewhere_.

"Nope. You've never met me before in your life. I'm not from around here."

… Well then.

"Okay," I say after a pause. "Then If I may be blunt, what do you want?"

She grins. "If this conversation goes right, your number."

And in an instant, my suspicion and annoyance and general _I-feel-like-shit-_ness gets blown out of the water. All that's left is bewilderment. I blink, then blink again when one blink didn't seem to cut it.

Is she trying to chat me up?

No way. Not possible. She's objectively _way_ out of my league, and besides, why would she pick _now_ of all times? But then, she as good as asked for my number, so…

What the hell is going on?

"… Ah." I reply, like an idiot.

"Sooo, Jeff, care to hear me out?"

_Wait._

"You know my name is Jeff?" I blurt out, and immediately realize how immensely stupid of a question that was.

_Hi, welcome to How To Not Make A Fool Of Yourself 101. Congratulations, you've failed._

"I do. You make very acute observations." She deadpans. "What, was it supposed to be a secret?"

"Er, no. It's not." My mind is racing a mile a minute. Except it's apparently lacking a driver, so my train of thought has derailed and is now a trainwreck. "Anyways, about that, I, well…" I groan and shake my head. God I hope Bill doesn't come out. I'd never live it down if he hears me. "Sorry. I'm out of it. Can we start this over?"

Luckily, she seems more amused than anything. "No objections." She laughs. "Why don't I begin? I was passing by, I saw you moping in here, and figured you could use someone to talk to, being the _wonderful _girl I am." Her smile widens. "That, and I'm interested in something with you."

Passing by, huh?

_Press X to Doubt._

Then the significance of what she just said dawns on me.

_Oh my god._

_She's actually hitting on me. This is real._

"Wait, really? Wow… I, absolutely. Thank you." I'm desperately clawing for something to say and _oooooh why don't I roll with how she started this conversation_? "You got it right, though." Almost involuntarily, I sigh. "It's been a rough few weeks for me. I'm just wasting ti-_I mean_, I'll need to look for a jo-" I register what's coming out of my mouth a moment to late and clamp it shut.

_HOLD ON._

_What am I doing why would I tell her that DAMMIT I'm an idiot!_

"Hey, don't worry, I know about that." She winked. "I'm still interested."

I blink. I probably should stop blinking so much.

_She can't mean that… _

I had to make sure. "You mean-"

"Yup. Your classes, your job, your rent, sounds like quite a handful." Her tone. It was sympathetic, but something didn't feel right. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. _Hopefully_ I'm just being paranoid.

_But Jason? Man, you're a dick._

Alright, however much I'm glad that a pretty girl is - could _possibly _be - flirting with me, the implications of her having heard what she did irked me; I've told a grand total of one individual of the mess I'm in, and my best friend really shouldn't be letting others in on my very severe and _very personal_ issues.

_Then again, that means she's been asking around about you, and… is that a good thing or a bad thing? She's apparently okay with me being a potential drop-out as well as broke. Something about this seems too good to be true._

Speaking of, how _is _she connected to Jason? She said she's not from around here. Maybe a friend from home?

_Screw it, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. If she's pulling some kind of scam on me, it should be obvious enough._

"I take it you're friends with Jason then?" I say, as casually as I can.

She shook her head negative. "If I am, I'd be a terrible friend. Who's this 'Jason'?"

_Nani the fuck?_

Is she lying? I can't fathom what reason she would have to. I briefly run search through a list of people in my life for who else she could've gotten her information from, and it comes up blank.

I am now thoroughly confused. Who did she find out something I've kept exclusively to myself and _one other person_ \- who she doesn't know - from? My university wouldn't release my academic information without my authorization, that's for sure. My family? They're in _China_.

Oh well, change of plans. I can't exactly dig further here without coming off as nosy - even if she might've been the one doing the _nosing about_ in the first place. "Never mind."

_I guess the next step is to explain myself? Don't be nervous. I don't need to be nervous. She's already made clear she's fine with the problems I'm having. Just make it clear I have plans to improve myself._

Also, I still can't shake a weird nagging feeling that I can't put my finger on. She's… I'm not exactly sure how to put it. Unbelievably nice? That might be it. Almost… _mysterious_, too. I'm not familiar with how hookup conversations are supposed to go, but I'm fairly certain it's not like this.

Then I catch myself. _What is wrong with me? I should be ecstatic! _I have _zero_ experience with girls to go off of, so I _really_ have no right to peg something wrong about her. I'm overthinking this by a huge margin and definitely going to blow it if I don't stop and-oops.

I've been silent for a good second or two. She's tilting her head at me.

I take a deep breath and prepare the same speech I gave to my landlord. "And, yeah, thanks for… _understanding_. I'm in a bad spot now, but I promise, I'll be working hard to-" _Wow that's a strange sensation and OH MY JESUS she has a finger on my lips._

She's also stood up and leant across the table, and _SHIT KEEP YOUR EYES UP!_

With colossal difficulty, I do.

"_Ssh_, you don't need tell me that. I already know you will be." She practically purrs. "I quite admire you for it. Not giving up's a great quality to have, don't you agree?"

Usually, I don't appreciate having my personal space encroached upon. Nor would I have high regard for a move stolen straight from the most cliched femme-fatale. As it turns out, though, this isn't "usually," and I'm now very, very red.

All the affirmation I get out is something along the lines of "_mhmrflbrm…_"

"In fact, that's part of why I'm interested in you." She continues, settling back into her seat as her index finger rises to her chin. The gesture is accompanied by an appraising look and an _unbelievably _sly smile. "I think I have a proposal that could help you out with your situation-"

Time seems to slow down.

One. Déjà vu. _So much_ déjà vu. Where is this déjà vu coming from?

Two. There are some seriously loud alarm bells in my head, even through the whole _holy-crap-this-ridiculously-sexy-girl-is-making-moves-on-me _thing causing a critical short-circuit of most of my mental faculties.

_Because that sounds like an MLM pitch._

Oh no. She's going to try to recruit me to Younique, isn't she?

Oh god please no. Let me have this. Please.

_Pleasedontbeaoneofthempleasedontbeaoneofthemplease-_

"-I want you to sell your soul to me." She finishes, with a decidedly salacious wink.

_Oh._

_OH._

Oh yes. Yes please.

_See, paranoid me? Overthinking! Stop it!_

I, by virtue of my status as a nineteen year old meganerd, really have no idea how to be suave. But with _that_ line from her? Stuttering and doing my best socially-inept-anime-protagonist impression is going to be a no bueno.

"Oh? You have my attention. Do tell." I say, with a wiggle of my eyebrows. Then I cringed. I'm pretty sure she did too, though she hid it well.

_Fuck, SO MUCH REGRET. Under what circumstances would that have been a smart move, brain? NO CIRCUMSTANCES! Good job, you creepy moron._

"Great! I'm glad you're interested too." She forges onward with an impressively little amount of disgust in her voice - which I would have fully deserved. "You don't have to do much."

_Where is she going with this?_

… _What the?_

She pushes a thin stack of papers, along with an ornate-looking fountain pen across the table to me, and… _where in the world was she keeping that_? _She doesn't have a bag or anything of the sort._ I'm baffled to no end, but she hasn't stopped talking, and I shove my _what-the-fuck-ery_ to the back of my head.

"Just sign your full name here after reading this." She says, pointing a spot on the bottom left of the third page, beside a strange, ornate red crest.

I'm still staring at her as discreetly as I can.

_Yup, she definitely doesn't have a bag. She couldn't have pulled those things out of thin air, unless… _

_I should be disgusted with myself for conjuring that image. I'm also not._

_Aaaanyways._

My eyebrows crease together ever so slightly as I turn my focus towards the papers. "What is…?"

"Humor me, won't you?" She presses.

_Insert Saitama-OK face here._

I start scanning.

Correction. This is too rough to be paper, it's more like _parchment_, and what becomes immediately obvious is that this… honestly I can't fathom _what_ this is, but it's clearly not a notarized document and presumably of no real importance.

It reads:

**~~Contract of Indenture~~**

**THIS**** Indenture witnesses, that Jeffrey Fan of Vancouver in the Province of British Columbia hath of his own free Will and Accord put himself as an Indentured Servant to Anna of Serafew with her to live, and to Serve from the first Day of November: Anno Domini, Two Thousand and Nineteen till the full Term of Five Hundred Years be complete and ended, or the meeting of the agreed upon Conditions of Termination. During all which Term of the said Servant, his Master faithfully he shall serve, his Secrets keep, and Commands gladly every where obey: he shall do no Damage to His Master nor see to be done by others without letting or giving Notice to his said master. He shall not… **

The rest of the three pages are lines and lines and lines of more conditions, all of the same gist. I don't keep reading, because the words are starting to waltz right off the paper and jumble together in my retinas. Ugh, handwriting gives me migraines to-

… _Jesus._

_HANDWRITING._

_She _wrote_ all of that. _BY HAND_. I can feel myself getting carpal tunnel just thinking about that much writing. Also, she has my last name too. This had to have been prepared beforehand._

_Damn, that's a lot of effort. And encouraging. I don't know what exactly to make of it - she's into… medieval roleplay? I guess that's fine? - but she _has _to be into me to put that kind of time into coming up with something like this. I hope?_

"I'm wai-ting~" She says, in a sing-song voice.

I hurry and skip to the end of the last page.

**For the true Performance of all and every the said Covenants and Agreements, either of the said Parties bind themselves unto the other by these Presents. In Witness whereof they have hereunto interchangeably put their signatures on this first Day of November.**

After a second's consideration, I shrug and sign my name right below an elegant **Anna**. It's crossed my mind that she _could _be setting me up for some elaborate scam, but I can't imagine the harm in giving her my signature on… whatever this is. "There we go."

_Anything to get the girl, eh?_ I tell myself.

She snatches the three pages examines my signature with an eagerness that… really isn't founded on anything. Seemingly satisfied, she nods to herself before glancing back at me. "And you accept these terms and conditions?" She asks hopefully. "Say 'I accept' with slow and clear enunciation if you do."

_I still have no idea where this is going._

It also occurs to me at that moment that, if she's taking this seriously, she might turn out to be crazy. I dismiss that notion as my paranoia acting up again.

People are different. People can be weird. Unless that person is attractive. Then they're just quirky. She's unquestionably attractive, so… I'm going to go ahead and rationalize that she's just quirky. Nothing wrong with quirky.

_I'm totally one hundred percent free of any influence from my hormones._

"I… sure. Why not? _I accept_."

She stands, cutting off the many questions waiting on my lips with a huge, _victorious_ grin. "Pleasure doing business with you, Jeff. I'll be in contact with you shortly. See you~!" Then, much to my surprise, she just… leaves.

_With her hips swinging_, my brain helpfully pointed out.

"… See you too?"

_What the hell just happened?_

…

A few seconds of me directing my baffled gaze at Anna's point of exit later, something clicked.

_Anna._

_Red hair._

_Business._

_OHHHH._

_SHE'S A FIRE EMBLEM FAN. I _love_ Fire Emblem! How did it take me this long?_

Well, I'd be looking real forward to that call from her, except…

_She never actually asked me for my number._

Something else clicked.

_I never actually asked her for her name. Nor did I once address her by her name once I saw it._

My face hits the table.

_Goddamnit. I blew it, didn't I?_

Bill reappears at the counter. "Kid, why're you still dilly-dallying here?" He grumbles. "I'm closing. Get your ass out of my shop and get your act together!"

… Did he not notice Anna the whole time? It's not like him to let a conversation happen in his cafe without making at least half a dozen sarcastic comments that no one asks for.

In a mix of confusion, disappointment, and dread at remembering what I'll have to deal with in the coming days that Anna had distracted me from, I go home. I go back to worrying about my grades, my rent, and amounting to nothing in life that night, with a healthy serving on the side of self loathing.

Not for long, though.

Interdimensional portals springing into existence in the middle of your bedroom tend to make you stop thinking about... whatever you were thinking about, and start thinking about, I dunno-

_Probably the fucking _interdimensional portal_ in the middle of your bedroom._

* * *

**So, yep.**

**This is not a self insert. A friend gave me the idea of writing an insert-fic for Fire Emblem, so here we are.**


End file.
